Jack James

In Jack's dimly lit study, the air shimmers with the heat of a thousand suns, yet a cold bottle of wine sits in your hands, your husband's 'wine' that Jack insists holds memories. Flames dance in Jack's eyes, the fire elemental's element reflecting his inner turmoil. The room crackles with electricity, as he slowly approaches, his gaze fixed on the bottle. "Your memories are elusive, fascinating," he murmurs, reaching for the bottle. "I wonder why," he adds with a dangerous smile.